Ashes in the Wind

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  “Minnesota! A-r-r-g-h!”

  Roberta’s hand appeared and snatched the cane from his grasp, flinging it against the wall. “You and your damned bloody leg! I wish they had chopped it off!” Her foot lashed out from beneath her skirts, striking Cole full on the right thigh. He half turned and stumbled back with a harsh grunt of pain, catching himself against the frame of the parlor door.

  The enraged Roberta stepped forward, following until Cole reached down to seize the cane by its lower end, lifting it like he would a club. Growing wary, Roberta backed around into the parlor as he stumbled after her, his face white and bearing a grimace of pain.

  “Woman,” he snarled, “if you ever do that again, I shall—”

  He halted abruptly as his eyes went over her shoulder and took in the astonished faces turned toward them. Only Alaina sat with her head bowed, her slender hands clenched tightly in her lap. Cole fought for self control and slowly straightened himself, finally extending a brief nod of greeting to Doctor Brooks.

  Roberta whirled at his gesture, and her face burned bright crimson as she realized her vengeful act had been well witnessed. No less flushed was Leala’s own as she sat rigidly erect and stared into the distance.

  “Roberta? Cole?” Her voice was small even in the dead silence of the room. “We have guests.”

  “I’m going out for a ride,” Cole reported curtly and limped away from them. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  Roberta, finding no way to excuse her actions, beat a hasty retreat upstairs to her room. Doctor Brooks could do nothing to ease either Leala’s or Alaina’s mortification. Bidding the older woman a rather stilted good-bye, he escorted the girl to the door and they made their exit. Dulcie wandered off to the kitchen, shaking her head sadly, while Leala sat much in a daze, wondering how a sweet, dark-eyed daughter had come to this pass.

  Chapter 23

  THE heat of the summer bore down on the southern fields that continued to lie fallow as the war progressed. It was largely a summer of defeat for the Confederacy. Grant assumed command of the Eastern Department of the Union Army, and Robert E. Lee proceeded to fight a series of retreats in a war of attrition that he could not afford, as he fell back upon Richmond. Sherman attacked Johnson in the Central Department, and that stalwart fought a flawless retreat to Atlanta. Hood, the gallant one-armed Texan, replaced Johnson, and began to fight the battle for Atlanta, while the city itself fell into a panic of evacuation. In the Western Department, known on the Confederate side as TransMississippi, Kirby Smith failed to catch Steele in Arkansas, then returned south in time to let Banks escape across the Atchafalaya. August waxed with its exhausting heat, and the blue-clad soldiers in southern Louisiana became almost rare as Sherman and Grant’s armies demanded replacements for their losses.

  On a late Saturday afternoon in early September, Alaina and Mrs. Hawthorne were at work in the flower garden when a rhythmic rattle of hooves came down the road toward the house. Alaina straightened as a horse and buggy came into sight, the latter bearing the impeccably uniformed Major Latimer. He drew rein beside the hitching post and decorously tipped his hat to them.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.”

  “Why, Major Latimer, how nice of you to come calling!” Mrs. Hawthorne greeted with warmth. “Would you like to come in for some tea, or a bit of sherry perhaps?”

  “No, thank you, m’am. Actually I came out to talk over some matters with Alaina. I’ll be leaving in a few days—going home—and there are a few affairs that need to be settled before I leave.”

  “Of course, Major.” The woman smiled warmly. “I understand. I shall be in the house for a while—if you two should need me.” Just before entering, she paused at the door and looked back over her shoulder. “If we don’t get to talk again, Major, I do wish you a safe journey home. Godspeed!”

  “Thank you, m’am.” Cole touched the brim of his hat politely and waited until she had disappeared into the house before his gaze came around to rest upon Alaina who carefully tended the shrubs.

  “Can you stop that for now?” he asked quietly. “I’d like to have a talk with you.”

  Though her mind was not on her labor, Alaina continued to trim the withered blossoms from the greenery. “What we have to talk about, Major, can be discussed while I’m working.”

  Cole rubbed the cool leather of the reins beneath his thumb. “I came to talk with you privately, Alaina, and I would be grateful if you would go for a ride with me and listen to what I have to say.”

  She turned and stared at him for a long, indecisive moment, then approached the buggy.

  “Get in,” he bade gently and reached out a hand to offer her assistance.

  Alaina stared up at him. He was darkly bronzed from the sun, and in contrast his pale blue eyes seemed to shine like bright gems. Just when she had thought that she would not be affected by his presence, he appeared, and all her carefully tended illusions were cruelly sundered. Why hadn’t he just gone away and let her be reconciled to his leaving? Why did he have to prolong her misery?

  “I beg your indulgence, Alaina. I’ll be gone in a few days, and I desire a few moments of your time, if you can spare them.”

  Reluctantly she removed her apron and gloves, hanging them on the hitching post, and climbed in beside him. Cole lifted the reins, and headed down along the river road, halting only when he found a dapple-shaded spot, well secluded from the main road by a grove of trees.

  “I do hope your intentions are honorable, Major.” She tried to sound flippant. “I seem to be at your mercy, and you appear quite determined to compromise my reputation.”

  Cole wrapped the reins about the whip staff, and leaned back in the seat. Unbuttoning his blouse, he reached within it and drew out a small derringer which he handed over to her. Bemused, Alaina raised her gaze to stare at him wonderingly.

  He gave her a slow smile. “To soothe your fears, madam.”

  She examined the small, double-barreled pistol, then observed wryly, “It’s unloaded.”

  “Of course,” he grinned, setting aside his hat. “I’m not a complete fool.” He took the weapon from her. “Do you know how to use one of these things?”

  “It’s rather ineffective without proper loading, that much I know.”

  Ignoring her quip, he began to slip the brass cartridges into the chamber. “Pay close attention,” he admonished. “This little lever on the side is a safety and will prevent an accident.”

  “And your reasons for this gift?”

  Cole slapped the chamber shut and briefly aimed the gun at a distant wildflower before meeting her inquiring stare. “After I leave, you may have need of some convincing protection, and since you’ve attracted the likes of Jacques DuBonné, who knows what could happen. This is the only thing I can offer toward your safety. It’s part of a farewell gift, I guess you might say.”

  “You mean there’s something more?”

  He shrugged casually. “Are you of a mind to go into a business of your own?”

  “That would be nice, but I’m afraid my funds are rather limited.”

  “I can provide those funds,” he said slowly. “I can have it arranged before I leave, and if there’s any problem in the future, I’ve hired an attorney in the city to deal with some of my affairs here. You need only contact him.”

  “Thank you, Major, but I do not wish to be kept by you, or by any other man. I am fairly self-sufficient, and I prefer it that way.”

  “Dammit, Alaina, I’m not asking you to become my mistress. I just feel obligated—”

  “You needn’t,” she interrupted coolly. “You owe me nothing, and I will take nothing from you.”

  “I have money with me—at least two thousand in gold, and the key to my apartment. I’ve made arrangements to keep it as long as you’re here in the city. I want you to take them both—”

  “No!” She was just as adamant as he. She had her pride and her reasons, which she would not discuss with him. “And you can’t force me t
o take them!”

  Cole sighed heavily. “You are a stubborn woman, Alaina MacGaren.” After a moment, he reached behind the seat and handed over a large, ornately carved wooden box. “The last of my gifts,” he announced wryly. “And this, I think, will not greatly compromise your reputation.”

  Suspiciously she glanced at him, then lifted the lid. A gasp of astonishment came from her as she saw what lay in the bottom of the velvet-lined box. It was a miniature of her parents that had once hung on the wall of her bedroom. “But how? How did you get this?”

  “My hand touched it as we were leaving your bedroom that night. I had noticed it on the wall earlier, and I thought you might like it as a keepsake.”

  “Oh, yes!” The shine of tears were in her eyes as she gazed into his. “It’s the most beautiful gift of all! Thank you!”

  On impulse she leaned toward him, pressing her lips against his brown cheek. Cole’s head was suddenly filled with the fragrance of her hair, and something wild escaped within him, something too strong to fight against. As if he had no will to stop them, his arms came around her, gently molding her to him. He had a man’s desire, and it had been many months since it had been soothed with the softness of a woman.

  “Alaina—Alaina—I want you.” His voice was a hoarse, ragged whisper in her ear, and it burrowed down in her soul, unlocking all the forbidden passions that she had held in check. His mouth found hers, and for a moment there was an eager meeting of lip and tongue, of passions winging out of control. Her breath caught in her throat in a small, sobbing gasp as he held her hard against him. Every fiber in her being yearned for him, but her mind rebelled. He belonged to another woman, and in a few days would be gone from her. If she allowed some tenderness between them now, his leaving would be that much harder to bear.

  “Cole—no,” she choked out, turning her face away, and struggling against his broad chest. “We can’t do this.”

  Cole’s need had been physically stirred by her all too fleeting response, and his mind was enflamed with the desperation of starving passions. “Come to my apartment, Alaina,” he pleaded as he pressed warm, ardent kisses upon her cheek and the slim column of her throat. “Stay with me there. Let me love you as I yearn to do. We only have a few days left.”

  Shaking her head, Alaina pushed herself from him and pressed a trembling hand to his chest to hold him away. “I’m not one of your common doxies,” she whispered weakly. “I won’t be left to bear a child in shame, while you boast of one more bastard. Whatever happened between us was a mistake—”

  He caught her hand and held it fast within his grasp. There was an ache in the lower pit of his belly that could not be appeased with denials and rationalizations. “There are some mistakes, Alaina, that cannot easily be put aside.” He stared intently into the wavering depths of her eyes as he stated slowly, desperately, “I need you, Alaina.”

  “No,” she moaned and tried to turn away.

  Cole caught her by the shoulders and forced her to face him, giving her a small shake to bring her gaze up to his. What he saw in her eyes was in complete variance with what her lips conveyed, and there was a shivering tremor in her slender body that belied her words of denial. His lust overcame his common sense. Silence her protest, he thought, then her heart would follow his leading. He grasped her tightly to him again and covered her gasping mouth with his. But he misjudged her. There was a sharp pang as her small teeth clamped down on his lip. He snatched away, tasting blood, and threw up an arm in defense as her hand came around to deliver a blow to his cheek.

  “You may force me, Major, if that is your desire.” She made her vow in an ice-hard voice that hissed as if it struck hot steel. “But I will be no more yours after, than I am now.”

  “I should have chained you to me that night,” he swore. “It’s been my hell to pay since.”

  She snatched up the miniature, spilling the box to the floor of the buggy, and before he could stop her, she stumbled down the step and, glaring back through tears, stalked away. “I won’t be your hell anymore, major! You are free to go and live with Roberta in Minnesota. I don’t ever want to see you again!”

  “Alaina! Come back!” he shouted as she ran stumbling down the lane. “Dammit, Alaina! Get back in here!”

  “Go on! Go live with your precious wife!” she railed. “And you can take your money, your apartment, and your key and give them to your mistress!”

  Cole mumbled several curses as he swung the buggy about. “Alaina, get into the buggy,” he commanded, slowing the buckboard beside her. “I’ll take you home.”

  “And what price the ride?” she sneered over her shoulder. “Another night’s toss in bed?” She laughed harshly as she continued to stamp her way indignantly along the path. “Begone with you, Yankee! Out of my sight!”

  “You’re being unreasonable, Alaina!”

  “Unreasonable? Because I won’t bed down with you and get with child? You, my dear major, are the one who’s being unreasonable! In a few days you’ll be gone, and you’d be free of any obligations you’d leave with me!”

  “Do you think I’m like that?” he demanded. “Do you think I wouldn’t come be with you—”

  She stopped and faced him squarely, setting her arms akimbo. “And what would you do with Roberta? Set her aside so you could put a name to a child of yours? Forget it, Major. You can’t give me what I want.”

  She whirled and strode angrily along her way, while he paced the horse beside her.

  “What do you want, Alaina?” He watched her as she paused to shake a pebble from her worn slipper.

  “I want what every woman wants,” she stated, raising her eyes briefly to his. “And that’s not to become the mistress of a Yankee womanizer.”

  “Believe what you will,” he began, “but I am no—!”

  “You’re right! I’ll believe what I will!” She was final in her dismissal of him as she walked on, ignoring his pleas to get into the buggy, though he followed her all the way back to Mrs. Hawthorne’s drive.

  Cole halted the buggy and watched her as she ran across the porch. The door slammed behind her, and he heard her running footsteps in the house. He did not enter the lane, but urged the horse around, returning to the city, all the while wondering how he had ever managed to make such a stupid, blundering mistake.

  Long into the night, Mrs. Hawthorne lay awake, listening to the racking, bitter sobs that drifted from Alaina’s room. Her own heart ached for the girl—and for the major. It seemed the two were caught in something that could not easily be cooled—and she doubted that distance would have any effect on the burning fires of their emotions.

  A shudder ran through the riverboat as the last hawser was cast off, and the threshing paddlewheels took her from quayside and into the main current of the river. Leala wiped her eyes and frantically waved the kerchief as her daughter departed, while Angus stood stiff and unyielding beside his wife, knowing full well that with his own part in Roberta’s marriage, he could now voice no objection.

  As for Roberta, she was enraged that she was being dragged off into a wilderness from where tales of wild Indian savagery drifted and which was known to be populated with cloddish lumberjacks and half-breed trappers. The reality of it all came home to her as she stood on the upper deck of the river steamer. Her dreams of Washington and haute société faded to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. Somehow she translated her loss into the fact that Cole had used and then betrayed her. The tall, handsome man, leaning on a slim cane beside her, became anathema to her.

  Roberta raised her gaze and saw a small, slender figure garbed in a pale muslin gown standing alone and silent near the levee’s crest.

  “Alaina!” The name came like a curse in Roberta’s mind. She knows what she’s done to me! Oh, she knows all right, and how that little bitch must be chortling at my fate!

  “Did you speak?” Cole turned from his own musings to face her with the question.

  Roberta stared up at him, and all her frustrations and h
atred made itself known in the sudden snarl of pure rage that twisted her face into a hideous mask. She could bear no more of this!

  Abruptly she whirled and ran to their cabin, hiding her face behind a gloved hand. Cole followed more slowly, but when he tried the doorknob, he found the passage locked against him. He paused for a moment in deep reflection then, leaning heavily on his cane, he limped to the purser’s office to arrange for separate accommodations.

  Later in the afternoon Alaina was puttering in Mrs. Hawthorne’s back yard when the woman called her to come around to the front porch. When she did, she found Saul standing in the yard with hat in hand. Since their return from Briar Hill, he had been working at the Craighugh store, and she had seen little of him. He looked at her rather sheepishly, stirring her curiosity, then her gaze went past him, and she saw Cole Latimer’s buggy and horse in the drive.

  “De major say to bring it here, Miz Alaina, and not to take no for an answer. He say it’s yours now, ter do with whatever yo’ wants.” Saul turned the hat around in his hands, sliding his fingers nervously over the brim. “De major also say, if’n yo’ doan want ter raise Mistah Angus’s brows more’n a mite, yo’ won’t be trying to give it back to them.”

  “How am I going to take care of that animal?” Alaina protested.

  “Well, de major say for you not to worry ’bout that. He done take care o’ that. Dere’ll be some feed and stuff delivered here ever so often, an’ all yo’ gotta do is sign for it.”

  Alaina gritted her teeth and peered at the black suspiciously. “That’s not all, is it, Saul?”

  “W-a-a-l—” He lowered his gaze and shrugged lamely.

  “Spit it out,” Alaina commanded.

  Reluctantly he withdrew a key from his cotton coat and handed it to her, then reached to take a pouch from his belt. “De major say dere’s two thousand in gold right here, and that there’s a key to his ‘partment. Ah was ter see dat dey got here to you without Mistah Angus knowin’ bout ’em.”